Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder by Marilyn Rausch, Mary Donlon Read Free Book Online

over there with the workers from AgriDynamics?”
    “Rumor has it one of them is going to blow the whistle on old Hal and his shady doings. Hope they do. Guy would sell his own mother down the river. Wouldn’t want to put my life on the line to rat on him, though.”
    Chip and Iver sat together, each quietly sipping their coffee, listening to Bernice softly sing “Cracklin’ Rosie,” as she polished the stainless steel milk dispenser. Behind the counter Chip spied a copy of The Cranium Killer , the back cover facing up. There was the dreadful photograph that Lucinda had insisted on using, one of him holding his eyeglasses and wearing a black turtleneck. He hated that picture, didn’t own a black turtleneck and hadn’t worn one since high school. Even worse was the front cover, a bloody hand holding a brain. Again, that was Lucinda’s idea, and she most definitely called the shots when it came to the jacket graphics. Nevertheless, he was surprised to see the book in Turners Bend and even more surprised to see it behind the café’s counter. He wondered if Bernice was reading it. If so, that might account for the strange looks she sometimes gave him.
     
     
    Back at his computer for a day of writing, Chip started the next chapter of Brain Freeze . He needed to concentrate on the “blown gasket” and microchip in his victim’s head, but his mind kept veering off to the beautiful redheaded veterinarian. He had sworn off women, but hearing that she was divorced made him think about her. She was a lot like Mary in many ways, a caring woman with solid values who would most likely know better than to get involved with a guy like him. Anyway, two teenage kids were some serious baggage to avoid. That was like sticking your knife into the toaster, right?
    Finally he forced himself to stop his spinning and reeling about Dr. Jane and to channel his energy into Dr. Goodman and Jo. Living in their lives was a hell of a lot easier than living in this own. He wished he had not tossed out all his first-year medical schoolbooks. He did not lack for medical resources right within his own family. But, calling his father was out of the question. He avoided talking with him as much as possible. Conversations with Dr. Collingsworth Jr., always spiraled into lectures about Chip’s failures, delivered in his father’s unmistakable tone of condescension, tinged with disappointment. Chip had spent lots of hours on his analyst’s couch talking about his “unresolved father issues.” After thousands of dollars, they were still “unresolved.”
    He called Parker, his father’s favored child.
    “How’s my little bro?”
    “Up to my neck in lesions and tumors, as usual.”
    Yup, he had made the right choice not to be a doctor. “I need some info. If you were to plant a microchip into a brain to control inhibitions, where would you plant it?”
    Parker gave a brief laugh. “Well, I’m not in the mind control business, I leave that up to the CIA and KGB. I assume this is for your next novel. Is our hero Dr. Goodman going to loosen the inhibitions of some sexy blonde?”
    “No, something more sinister than that, I think, although I’ll keep that in mind.”
    Chip took notes as Parker described various areas of the brain and brain stem and regaled him with his knowledge of recent research in the treatment of various seizure disorders and neurological diseases.
    “And aneurysms, where do they most often occur?”
    “The Circle of Willis, an arterial circle at the base of the brain.”
    “Thanks, Parker. I’ll give you credit in my acknowledgements.”
    “Ah, that’s sure to impress my colleagues in the American Society of Neurosurgeons. Got to go, Chip, my beeper’s going off.”
    Maybe he was being too sensitive, but he heard it in Parker’s parting remark, that bit of sarcasm and their father’s tone, the cutting edge that always sliced into Chip’s ego. He got the information he needed for his novel, but it grazed his